The Fork In The Road
by Aearwen22
Summary: A very private moment, on a hillside outside Edoras.


The day was beautiful: a gentle breeze from the mountains kept it from being oppressively hot, the grass was tall and swaying in the breezes like green waves upon an inland sea, the sky overhead was a brilliant blue with floating puffs of clouds. On any other occasion, Arwen would have been unconditionally contented; but not today. On this lovely, gentle day, she was riding up a hillside across the broad valley from Edoras to try to find a way to speak her heart to her father before he headed north to Imladris for the last time, before she would never see him again.

On a spirited mount next to her, her father betrayed none of his thoughts through either expression or words. Elrond had always been able to hide his emotions - even from his children - especially when they were the difficult ones. Had her room not been so close to her parents' all those centuries before, she would never have understood how much the loss of her mother to the West had cost him. Elladan and Elrohir still didn't know of the nights she'd spent lying in bed, hearing the very tiny sounds of sobbing on the other side of the wall; only to awaken the next morning and find her father as serene and unruffled as ever. Even her father didn't know what she had heard in the darkest hours of those first, agonized months before she had left for the peace of Lothlórien and he'd had a chance to build an impregnable façade of strength and serenity.

The only time the two of them had really argued was when she had announced to him that she and Estel had pledged themselves to the other; and even then, Elrond had only let her see brief glimpses of his true, deeper emotions on the matter in the sharp glint of his grey eyes and in the stony set of his lips. He had argued his point with a quiet desperation, only to finally and reluctantly concede that her path was _hers _to choose, whether he liked it or not. And in the years that followed, he had carefully kept them both focused on being supportive of Estel in his efforts, never once again mentioning his own personal wishes in the matter.

But now here they were, she having taken that final, irrevocable step towards mortality, and he preparing to take his final, irrevocable step as First-born. She'd known this day _could_ come, but it had always been so far ahead, beyond so many potentially impossible obstacles, that its swift arrival now was taking her utterly unprepared.

Three quarters of the way up the hillside, there were two fruit trees, and Arwen followed her father's example of pulling the horses to a halt in the shade and dismounting. They both carefully tucked the reins into the saddles and let their mounts wander to crop at the grass.

She turned to him. "Ada, I am so…"

"Stop." The graceful hand that had always been there for her, protecting her, guiding her, healing her hurts, was held up quickly to prevent her words. "The time for apologies, recriminations and arguments is long since past. Our time together _now_ is far too short to waste with them."

Arwen stared into her father's eyes and found them filled with understanding, sympathy and love; and behind it all lay an immense pain that, for a change, he was allowing her to see. Knowing him as she did, however, she doubted he could prevent it. He had probably had much the same look in his eyes when bidding her mother - his beloved wife - farewell in Mithlond. "I love you," she whispered, finding those the only response to him that made any sense to her.

His face lit with a gentle smile that didn't quite dismiss the pain. "And I love you, my daughter. I always have, and I always will." The defensive hand now lowered and turned into an invitation. "Come. Let us sit beneath this friendly tree and enjoy our time together in comfort."

"I wish…" she began, willingly putting her hand in his and letting him draw her down into the soft grass as he leaned his back against the tree trunk.

"As do I," he admitted, "but I can already tell that your heart truly does belong with Estel, and that he will make you happy in ways that you would have had difficulty finding in Aman. Knowing that Estel will make you happy and seeing the very beginnings of the wonderful life together you have before you make it a little easier to let you go. I cannot be selfish in the face of your happiness, and I refuse to be."

She played absently with a stalk of grass with an unripened head at its end. "I know Estel would never dare ask it, but I have come close to asking you to stay until we…" She looked up at the softest whisper of an breath drawn in and saw the look of absolute agony flit over his face, and she then looked away again, shaking her head firmly. "But I know that would be tremendously unfair to you and selfish of us. You need to go West, Ada. You _need_ to be with Nana." Maybe if she said it often enough, she would begin to believe it because she didn't _want_ to believe it. Oddly enough, Estel understood this better than she did.

"If I had your mother with me now, I would gladly stay." The admission was very soft, and the pain in it drew her eyes back to him. "But she is _not_ here." His eyes begged her to understand. "I know what it feels like, to watch one who has been an essential part of me step outside the Circles of the World where I cannot follow. I know what it cost me then. Forgive me, Arwen, but I cannot do it again - not without your mother's strength to sustain me. I will know when your time comes, after Estel gives back his gift, just as I knew when…" He swallowed hard. "But she will be with me then, and together we can bear it, I hope."

"Ada…" She reached for him, to comfort him - and perhaps to comfort herself. Elros had been long gone when she was a child, and yet she knew her father had mourned him in small, private ways her entire life. He never mentioned him by name in reminiscence, always hesitated in speaking of anything related to his twin who had chosen a different path from his. The thought that she would be inflicting the same wound on him again was horrible; Not horrible enough to make her regret her choice, but still dreadful.

He gathered her close, letting her lean her head on his shoulder as she always had when upset. "And you will survive this parting, because you have Estel to sustain you when the time comes and you know my ship has entered the Straight Path." She nodded and felt him rest his cheek against her hair. When next he spoke, after a long silence and a long, steadying breath, his voice was steady once more. "You should know that your brothers have decided to put off their choice until after both you and Estel have taken your final journeys."

"Elladan told us this before we left the White City," Arwen snuggled deeper into her father's embrace. It seemed impossible that this was one of the last times he would hold her thusly.

"Your grandfather remains also."

She hadn't known that. "I thought…"

"Celeborn has always had a much stronger tie to Arda than did you grandmother. And…" He sighed. "I can understand why she feels she can no longer linger. Nenya broken is an even greater burden than it was when it was alive."

Arwen pulled herself away from her father so she could see his face clearly. "And Vilya?"

Elrond put out both of his hands in front of him, examining them. Arwen looked as well, but could see no sign of the subtle shimmer that had hidden the Ring of Air from all but the most discerning of glances. "I took it off - I found it too much of a reminder of what we have all lost - but Galadriel continues to wear Nenya. I know not why; nor am I certain I wish to understand."

"Who else accompanies you?" It was a question she had dreaded asking, but the time had come to know who _else_ from her life would be leaving her forever.

"Erestor and his wife come with me, as do Lindir and Menester and their families. Glorfindel remains to assist your brothers, as Haldir remains to assist Celeborn. Rúmil and Orophir travel with Galadriel into the West."

Arwen leaned harder into her father's shoulder, grateful that at least one other ancient Elves of her childhood would remain behind. "I was afraid that all of them were going - that the only reminders of my long life would be my brothers - and Legolas. I think Estel will be relieved as well. He is most fond of Glorfindel."

"Oh, and Thranduil remains as well," Elrond said lightly. "I sometimes wonder that Aman could even hold _that_ Elf. Although how long he remains after Legolas sails is anyone's guess. I do know that many of his people will follow Galadriel to the Havens; not as many as the Galadhrim, but a goodly number. Their battle was the more hard-fought; their fatigue the greater."

"Estel will be glad to hear that Thranduil will remain. He holds him in very high esteem."

"Well he should. What kept that realm from growing completely dark in these latter days was a combination of stubbornness and shrewd planning on the part of its King. If Estel would learn to govern during dark times as well as good ones, he would do well to learn from Thranduil's example." Elrond kissed her forehead. "I fear Estel's reign will not be entirely peaceful, daughter," he warned.

"He knows." Arwen no longer questioned her husband's knowledge of Men and their ways. He had walked among them for long enough to know them well. He hadn't needed his foster-father's prophecies to tell him what his understanding of the peoples the Dark Lord had left leaderless led him to believe, but she appreciated her father's willingness to lend warning nonetheless.

She snuggled against her father's shoulder again, smiling softly as she felt his arm tighten around her shoulder. They sat silently, enjoying the day and their closeness, for a long time before she was led to speak again. "Do you remember how angry Nana would get with me when I would go to the hot spring with the El's and Glorfindel, when I would come back with my gown all wet?"

"She did not mind so much when you would do so in the summertime, when it was hot. But she feared what a chill could do to you at other times of the year." Elrond chuckled heartily. "And all because I caught a cold from one of the Dúnedain Rangers while she was pregnant with you. It was the only time she wished any of us to be other than peredhil."

"I do not think she liked me spending all my time following my brothers either, Ada."

"It was not that she did not approve, it was that she remembered doing much the same with Haldir and Rúmil when _she_ was a child, and knew that such would not teach you to be a proper Lady to whatever Lord sought your hand. Your grandmother worked long and hard on your mother's training after our betrothal, she told me, to make her ready."

"You will have to tell her that Estel appreciates it that I can help clean a deer and bring down food for the stewpot at need, as well as keep the household books and maintain servants' schedules," Arwen laughed softly. "He tells me that he hopes for us to be able to escape the stone city into wilds often so that we do not go mad, and that not having a 'simpering maid' on his hands is going to make things easier all around."

She could feel her father's nod even as he chuckled. "It is wise of him to already be planning his escapes. To be honest, it was that side of the Kingship that I had always feared would be the hardest to bear for him. He has been a Ranger, living in the Wild, for too long to easily bear being cloistered in stone. That he is already planning to take steps to address the issue bodes well."

"As if Legolas and Faramir would allow him to become too overwhelmed by matters of trivial politics! You have seen the repairs being done to the bridge? Minas Tirith will never be far from Ithilien; and you know how close Estel has been with Legolas all this time."

Her father was silent for a long time, and his arm had tightened around her just a little bit more, telling her that his thoughts were again difficult ones. "My only regret, other than that of not having you with me in Aman, is that I will not know your children," he finally admitted in a whisper.

Arwen's eyes filled. "And they will know you only from the stories Estel and I - and Elladan and Elrohir - tell them."

Elrond took another long, cleansing breath, his usual practice when struggling to bring his emotions back into control. "And perhaps that is as it should be. The time for the First-born to fade from the world has come. You remain to give new infusion of our grace to Men, while I fade into the mists of time. The manner of immortality that you have chosen is different than mine, but it is no less real, Arwen. It is just…" He kissed her again. "For Three Ages of the World, Elves and Men have walked the road together; sometimes as allies, sometimes as strangers. We have done our best to help Men reach their potential, but the time for mentoring is over. We have now arrived at the fork in the road, placed here by the One so that Men will have to make their own way from now on. And our roads fork here as well, daughter, at the same place."

Arwen smiled. Ever had her father been able to wax philosophical; it came with being the foremost Lore-master this side of the Sea. He was saying nothing that wasn't true, but turning facts into means to understand and offer comfort. Her love for her father - for both of her parents, without whose wisdom and guidance she would have to live the rest of her life - swelled inside her until she could think of no good response, no good tangent to take their discussion.

And so she slipped her arm over her father's chest and held on tightly, her head pressed against the silk of his hair over his shoulder, and closed her eyes to carve the moment into her memory to take with her through the long separation to come.

oOoOo

The Elven flags waved briskly in the breeze as the delegation from Imladris rode through the gate of Edoras and turned northward toward Lothlórien. At the head of the company rode Elrond alone. His back was straight, his gaze fixed studiously on the road ahead of him.

He dared not look back.

He already knew what he'd see: Arwen would be on the wide veranda of Meduseld, watching her past life ride away from her. Her hand would be raised in a farewell wave, even though they had discussed this the day before, just before they had ridden back toward Edoras. She knew he would not see the wave. But _he_ knew, with the same conviction that he knew his own heart, that she stood and offered her farewell wave nonetheless.

_"When I ride out tomorrow, my daughter, I will not turn back to you. I cannot. If I turn, I will not be able to leave; and you and your brothers and Estel will be forced to watch me fade. I cannot remain here any longer."_

_"I understand, Ada." She understood, but he knew even then that she would still hope for one last look, one last wave from him._

_"And this evening, I will not join the host for the farewell feast. I will not see either you or Estel, lest I be tempted to remain."_

_"Then this really is farewell? Right now??"_

_Oh, how tiny, how frightened his daughter's voice had been. "Yes. The time for our farewell is come."_

_"Ada…"_

_"I will tell your mother that when last I saw you, you were High Queen of Gondor, happily married to a man who fills the corners of your soul in a way no other would. She will rejoice to know that you have found love and will know the blessing of children."_

_"Ada…"_

_"Come now. We must ride back to Edoras before Éomer King and your husband send out a search party for us."_

_"Ada!" She had thrown herself at him then, crying bitter tears. "I love you, and I will miss you more than you will ever know!"_

_"And I you, my daughter, the brightest star in my evening sky, outshining the moon and even Eärendil's gem." And he had wept as he embraced her, holding her tighter than ever, battling the grief that he would never hold her again. "May the stars ever shine brightly on you and yours, and the One hold you in the palm of his hand. Know that even from Aman, your mother and I watch over you in our hearts with pride and love."_

All the words had been said. All the embraces had been given. His farewell to Estel had been much more brief, but no less poignant or difficult. All that was left him now was to get past that first turn in the road, the one that put out of sight Meduseld and the rise upon which the city of Edoras was built. Tears streaming down his cheeks, Elrond lifted his face and set his eyes on the northern horizon.

He wouldn't look back past the fork in the road that led him away from his beloved Evenstar. His Undómiel. It would wound her desperately, but he would not turn.

He couldn't.

He didn't dare.

FIN


End file.
